Blame it on the summer sun or my cheerful adrenaline that came rushing every time I hear the sea breeze, I am now three shades darker from my original beautiful morena skin. It’s been days since I made it my national pastime to avoid television to save myself from knowing the latest pathetic line up of new senators. And so? When an invitation came, I grabbed it at the first chance.
I bumped into a very close friend I haven’t seen in 17 years (yes, 17-his calculation – I really can’t do math, honest!). A little talk was all it took and an hour after we were headed to a little white island to make up for the lost 17 years. We were both surprised that we pursued the same interests. While he called himself “Palaboy”(Vagabond), I told him I’m a “Dagsa” (driftwood). A Dagsa that gathers no moss. Harharhar!!!
Dropping the comfort and speed of a motorized boat, we decided on a little sailboat much to the disapproval of our respective “concerned citizens”. With seven others all males, two little sailboats and one life vest, a fish sanctuary and a beautiful white island, only a fool would stay at home and witness the latest national political tragedy unfolding.
And since we are not fools, we cheered as the naughty waves tossed our little sailboat farther away into the Pacific Ocean. The thought of the Marianas Islands as the possible destination kept our spirits high. As we shouted with excitement each time seawater filled our boats, our “concerned citizens” stormed heaven’s gate to bargain for our safety and prepared a lengthy tongue lashing in the event our victorious homecoming. Blah!
The trip was all worth it. It closed the gap of 17 years. I couldn’t remember the day he left to begin his life of being a ‘Palaboy’. I just knew he wasn’t there anymore. I guess, that’s the best part of not saying “goodbye”…you can always say “hello” again at a much later time.
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